


When was all lost?

by Dino_Cattivo



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Anger, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Hurt, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-20 06:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19987912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dino_Cattivo/pseuds/Dino_Cattivo
Summary: Prequel to Dawn of Justice. Describing Bruce's bad coping with the loos of Jason leading up to his emotional state of the Movie and him going up against Superman.





	When was all lost?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



> I tried to get a bit more into the psychological side of Batman coping with his loss and what events could possible lead up to his mindset in Dawn of Justice. It was very interesting to try to get into his head and thoughts. I'm really tempted to revisit a plotline like this when I have a more solid research in the field of mental health and don't just go on my very slim knowlege.

It had been a slow night. It followed the even less eventful ones they had during the last couple of days. All the major players were still contained in their Arkham cells for once. And even more surprisingly they showed no indication of a planning a break out. The newly installed security system, courtesy of Wayne Enterprises, worked. And for once there was no enormous weapon exchange, drug trade or gang war in bitter need of stopping. That only left some muggings to stop before it was time to get home and catch some sleep for once.  
  
Prepares this was why Batman had let his guard down. Not that it was an excuse. He had to be better than this. Was made to be better than this. But he couldn't help that no matter how much training he had he was still only human after all. He slagged from time to time. Got pulled in by the false sense of calmness and got clumsy.  
  
That was the only explanation to why he had let Robin wander off all by himself. He had noticed his prodigy in the corner of his eyes when he slipped away. The child clearly bored by Batman micromanaging every inch of the warehouse. But Batman still hoped to find some missing clues for the murder which had happened here a week ago. It was not urgent. There was no sign of it being a serial killer and the trail had already gone cold. The police had already given up investigation and had taken down their tape. They left the crime scene in such a mess Batman didn't think there was something to find anymore. He tried anyway.  
  
But the slow process lead to Robin's boredom and thus the boy leaving his mentors side to get some fresh air. Batman had trained with him for quite some time now and Jason had taken to it like fish to water. It helped that he already had survived on his own before he got taken in. So he had felt like Jason could take care of himself for a few more minutes.  
  
Suddenly a shout rang out and Batman sprang up from his crouch. He was running in the direction of the scream as fast as he could with his heart hammered in his chest and panic clawed in his throat. He knew how dangerous this job could be. His body was a landscape of all the times he had gotten close to loosing the fight. He had been reluctant at first to bring a child into this mess. His crusade was necessary but he didn't want anyone else to bear the cross of it.  
  
But after Dick, it had been easier. There had been some close calls but he had always been in time and had kept his child safe. That was why he had such an easy time allowing Jason to follow him down this path. That and the fact that the long nights of patrol took their toll on him. He had gotten lonely wishing for a young-full laugh by his side to brighten up the darkness.  
  
Now he regretted it. Not picking Jason up from the street, the kid had desperately needed a home and Bruce loved having him at the manor. No, he regretted not burying the mantle of Robin when Dick left to stand on his own.  
  
Batman slid around a corner already fearing the worst and came to an abrupt halt as he observed the scene before him.  
  
There was blood.  
  
A lot of blood.  
  
In it laid a young woman. Not only young. A child. She couldn't be older than 10. Her empty eyes starred right at Bruce. Her face was frozen in an expression of terror.  
  
She couldn't have laid there long. The deep gash on her neck still oozed a steady stream of blood.  
  
Behind her, Robin kneeled on top of an unkept looking man his knees pressing down on the man's shoulder and abdomen holding him down. His fist hitting the guys face over and over again blood splattering from his clearly broken nose and bashed in teeth.  
  
Jason's mouth was twisted into an angry snarl and Batman could see his teeth flashing in the dim light of the sparsely placed lanterns.  
  
Batman got over his shock after a heartbeat and moved forward picking Robin up from the guy and holding him to his chest. His armor took the blunt force of the angry punches and kicks he received for his trouble. But he didn't let go. Not till the fight slowly left Robin.  
  
Only when he was sure the boy wouldn't be onto the man the second he let go he loosened his grip.  
  
The boy sunk into himself as Batman stepped past him towards the criminal, ignoring the boy for now. He let out a relieved breath when the guy still breathed and quickly zip-tied his hands, even though he didn't expect the guy to get up soon. Not with the damage, Robin had caused. He dialled the police and requested an ambulance.  
  
“Car.”  
  
He didn't look at Robin when he walked off towards where they had left the car upon their arrival. He was too angry. If he took one look at his child splattered in the guy's blood he would start screaming right here right now. And then things would get even uglier.  
  
Once Robin sat down next to him and fastened his seatbelt he started to drive in direction of the cave still not looking at Jason.  
  
The managed to get halfway there before it got too much for Jason and he spoke. Batman couldn't help but feel bad when he heard the trembling in his voice and just how small he sounded. More like the small child he had picked up what seemed like such a long time ago.  
  
“H-he deserved it. H-he...he...s-she is..is death...because....because of him...”  
  
Batman couldn't help but look over, seeing the tears still running down the young face. Big frightened eyes looked at him, the mask long tossed away. And Bruce couldn't help the hurt in his chest when seeing his son like this. The boy he wanted to protect had to see a girl die. Probably right in front of him. Till now they had always only come into the picture when it was already too late or managed to save everyone. And the first time they were too late the victim was still so young.  
  
“I'm not angry.”  
  
He comped his fingers through the dark curls of Jason's hair to underline the statement.  
  
“What you did was wrong. Very wrong. But it is as much my fault for leaving you alone as it is yours. And you are right what this man did was horrible. Absolutely inhuman. But you have to understand that this is no reason to go this far.”  
  
He wished he could concentrate fully on Jason and make him realize but he had to keep an eye on the road.  
  
“Do you understand what you just did there? What would have happened if I didn't stop you.”  
  
No answer. Hard to say if Jason had been to out of it, to angry to notice or if it dawned on him and he didn't want to speak it out loud now.  
  
“You nearly killed this man, Jason. Even if he survives the operation, he definitely needs, there will be permanent damage for a head injury like this. Just because we try to do the right thing doesn't mean we are above the law. That we are judge, jury, and executioner. We have to be better because of what we do. Better than them and better than everyone else. Our training gives us power and we have to make sure to not abuse this power."  
  
There was a frown on Jason's face and the boy had pressed his knees to his chest curling up on the seat next to Bruce.  
  
"No matter how bad someone seems there is always some good in them. Hope for redemption as long as you give them the chance. We have no right to take this chance from them. That would make us no better than them. If you kill a killer the amount of killers in the world doesn't decease. And once you have crossed this line you don't come back unscattered.”  
  
And didn't Bruce knew that too well? He never forgot the temptation he felt during his early years but he had seen what it could do to people. How the brave could fall.  
  
“Promise my Jason to never do something like this again. To be better than them.”  
  
There was silence beside him. Jason bit on his lips till it bleeds his hand plugging on the hem of his sleeve. A nervous habit the boy just couldn't seem to shake.  
  
“...okay.”  
  
The words were soft and faint but they were all Bruce needed. He knew the boy didn't just agree for the sage of ending the argument. He meant it even if right now he still didn't fully see why a murderer deserved a second chance.  
  
“Good. Let's get some of Alfred's cookies and get you into bed. You don't have to go to school tomorrow if you don't want to after all that happened today. I could take the day off and we could take a lazy day.”  
  
Jason slowly nodded and let Bruce guide him in direction of the showers to get the costume off and the blood washed away.  
  
  


~ ~ ~  
  


  
  
Bruce walked down the hallway paneled with dark wood. The empty eyes of his long-gone ancestors starring down at him from the paintings on the wall. Normally he didn't mind the history lingering all the walls of the Manor but today they made him uneasy. He rather preferred the photographs of him with his family, with Alfred, Dick, and Jason. His gaze stopped at a photograph of Jason snuggling up to him in one of the armchairs in the library, death asleep and he couldn't help but smile at the memory.  
  
A bright laugh broke through the silence and Bruce's feet started to move in its direction on his own accord. The sounds got louder and louder accompanied by the clicking of pans and rhythmical tapping of a knife on a wooden board. He finally came to a stop in the doorway to the kitchen and just leaned against the wooden frame and watched.  
  
Alfred was cooking something, given the red sun falling in from the window it had to be dinner. He had his back to Bruce and was concentrated on chopping some vegetables into thin slices for the soup cooking in the pot beside him.  
  
The source of the laughing sat at the other side of the stove on the kitchen counter. Jason's legs happily kicked out and thumped against the cupboards under him. He hummed some melody Bruce didn't quite recognized and stirred the soup with a big spoon. He didn't notice Bruce and just continued his activity and Bruce couldn't stop watching. His gaze had gotten soft with the open happiness his son showed.  
  
It was peaceful and Bruce pushed off the frame to join the two even though he wasn't that great in the kitchen but he could help with the cutting. He just wanted to be closer to his family. Showed them he cared and loved.  
  
Then Alfred turned around.  
  
He looked old and tired. Dark shadows, skin pal expect the red eyes and nose caused by the tear tracks on his cheeks. His father figure looked horrible and lost, almost small and it broke Bruce's heart to see him like this. A man with the pride Alfred held himself didn't deserve to have this grief and sadness written all over his face.  
  
And Bruce wanted to ask what was wrong, what was the cause of this. He wanted to pull the older man close and hold him, give something from the warm and safety back he had always received over the years when everything got to much for him.  
  
Bruce just desperately wanted to know how Alfred could be so miserable in such a happy situation when he spends time with Jason.  
  
Bruce's eyes flickered to the boy but found nothing but empty air. His breath caught in his throat and his he looked around in a panic trying to find where Jason could have vanished to but found no clue of the boy even being in the room in the first place.  
  
Alfred coughed awkwardly not having suspected Bruce to show up and quickly rubbed over his eyes to at least get ride of the fresher tears still running down.  
  
“Ahh, Master Bruce. It's good to see you here. You should eat something.”  
  
His voice was rough from all the crying and there was a slight trembling in it.  
  
“You haven't really gotten a proper meal in about a week.”  
  
And he hadn't. Hadn't really eaten expect some small bites here and there. Hadn't really slept. Hadn't really cared about it. Not since one week ago. Not since the funeral. Not since he had held the broken limps of his small boy in his arms. Since he had to listen helplessly to the rattling and pained breaths coming to a stop.  
  
Because nothing mattered anymore. Not since the laughing freak had taken the most precious piece of Bruce's life and broke it.  
  
“Master Bruce, are you quite alright? You look a bit sick.”  
  
Alfred's voice sounded far away and Bruce needed a few moments to make sense of what had been said. He staggered back, stumbling. Turned around and sprinted away from Alfred. He needed some space.

Peace and quiet.

Maybe then he would be able to breathe again. Right now there was a painful weight on his chest stopping him from doing more than getting small snatches of breath.  
  
He ended up in his parent's room even though he hadn't been here in a long time, too many painful memories. But now he felt a bit safer as he curled up in the small space between bed and wall knowing no one could easily find him here.  
  
But he still couldn't breathe. His attempts to get the buttons of his shirt open so he could check for injuries were fruitless. His hands trembling to strongly to get a grip onto the delicate buttons. In the end, he just ended up jacking his shirt open by force the offending pieces of plastic falling to the carped floor. As he pressed his sweaty palm to his chest he couldn't feel any bones shifted out of place. _How could there be?_ He hadn't left the house since the funeral.  
  
There was just his racing heartbeat under his fingers. But something had to be wrong. Had to be. He was dizzy almost felt like he could pass out at any moment.  
  
There was something wrong with him. He had to find the cause. He had to. He would die otherwise. He would die. DIE. Just like Jason. Oh god, Jason. Jason was dead. He was gone. He had lost Jason. There was so much blood and the way his arm had been bend and... and...and...  
  
oh..OH!  
  
That made sense.  
  
He forced himself to slow the hectic rise and fall of his chest. Or he tried to. Just because he knew he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen didn't mean he suddenly could start breathing normal again. But it helped. It was something he could concentrate on. A small problem he could fix in the shitshow his life had turned into in just a short week.  
  
It took some time till he looked significantly calmer. It could have been mere minutes or hours, but the sun was still visible despite being lower so it was probably more around 40 to 60 minutes. His breath was more even now and he shaking had surcease. But inside it was still boiling.  
  
Bruce jumped to his feet forgetting the small space he was cramped in and promptly hurt his shoulder but he didn't care just staggering out of it. He needed to get out. Away. The walls felt to much like they were closing in on him.  
  
He felt trapped in the house he had lived in with his son. But he also couldn't just run. _Where would he go anyway?_ It was not like there was someone outside who cared. He didn't have friends, just vaulters after his money. Alfred would care. But the man already had to deal with his own sadness. He didn't need Bruce to add to it.  
  
So Bruce went to the only place he could think of, where he always felt more powerful and more in charge. Less like the small boy who had to watch helplessly as his parents were taken from him, like the still broken man who had his own son taken from him just as easily.  
  
The elevator door opened in front of him and he stepped out in the colder surroundings of the dark cave. He didn't bother to turn on the light, he knew his way around and the faint light of the computer, which had automagically turned on when he entered fit his mood much better.  
  
He stood at the console looking for a case he could work on to take his mind of everything, not bothering to sit down. He was to agitate to rest yet and standing worked just fine. If he fidgeted and shifted his weight around every few seconds to make sure he was fine and could move his body freely that was only for him to know.  
  
He spun around nervously making sure nobody was standing behind him. He felt watched even though he could clearly see on the security protocol he had left open on the side of the screen, no one expects him had entered the cave in a week...  
  
Then he caught a glimpse of red green and yellow. It was barely visible the dim light only ominously illuminating in part. But he still recognizes it. Would always recognize it.  
  
He only notices he had stumbled forward in direction of the glass case when he nearly fell over his chair, which landed on the floor with a clattering noise.  
  
He couldn't take his eyes of the costume and the taunting words on it till the became too blurry to read because of the tears Bruce was sure he was crying.  
  
Crying for his son. His small boy. Even without blood connecting them that had been exactly what Jason had been to him. A son. Someone who stood by his side. Who made him less lonely.  
  
But the joke was really on Bruce.  
  
Thump.  
  
His intent to keep the boy close and safe had only exposed him to more and greater dangers.  
  
Thump.  
  
Dangers which had taken Jason from him.  
  
Bang.  
  
_He_ had laughed while he beat the boy.  
  
BANG!  
  
_He_ had enjoyed every second of Jason's suffering.  
  
CRASH!  
  
Pain floated his sensed and he blinked away the tears still obscuring his vision. He starred at the red blood dripping from his fist in a steady stream, saw the broken flesh at his knuckles and the cuts.

But he didn't understand. He just couldn't understand.  
  
A confused sound escaped his lips and his eyebrows were drawn together in a frown while he wondered how his fist had gotten this beat up. He had just stood there and looked at Jason's old uniform nothing more.  
  
His eyes snapped up to the glass case. Or what was left of it. Only bloody pieces of glass clung to the steel beam of the support structure. The rest of the glass laid around Bruce's bare feet in a glistering death trap ready to cut up whoever got to close. Not that Bruce cared much about the damage he would do to his feet if he should move.  
  
He was too shocked by his actions. Because he had done that. There was no other explanation for it. He had done that but he had not a single memory of doing so. He had just lost control and then when he came to it had already been too late.  
  
A shiver started in his painful dropping hands and wandered up until it wrecked his whole body. His mostly silence crying developed into full-on sobbing and he curled up, brought his head between his knees and rocked slowly on the balls of his feet making sure to keep the motion small so the scene didn't get any bloodier than it already was.  
  
He couldn't get a breath in. Every time he tried another sob wracked his body. Snort ran down from his nose but he didn't bother to rub it away and let it fall freely to the ground with all the tears and the blood he had successfully smeared all over his face and into his hair by now.  
  
  
He just couldn't stop the wails making their way out of his chest so he stopped trying and just let it roll over him. All the sorrow and grief he had buried inside. Because he deserved to feel miserable. It was his fault. Everything was his fault. He was the case for Jason's death. Without his meddling, the boy would still be alive.  
  
Just like his parents would still be alive if he hadn't had to insist on leaving the theatre early.  
  
He really wished he could clench and unclench his fists. It had always helped him calm down but now it caused hurt to shoot up his whole arm and after a painful groan he contented himself with just rocking.  
  
In the end, he had to jump up to the steal construct and climb down the other side again. An endurance test for his hands which were already at their limit but it beat walking over the sea of shards around him.  
  
Knowing that didn't stop the small whimpers from escaping his lips and a few more tears to wall up his eyes.  
  
But then it was finally over and he could slowly stagger over to the showers to clean all the blood, snort and tears of and take care of his wounds. He wouldn't be able to hide them from Alfred but he could make them seem less serious than they actually were.  
  
  


  
~ ~ ~

  
  
  
“Ahh, here again, Master Bruce. I had already suspected you started to sleep

in the car with all the time you seem to spend out there.”  
  
“It's nothing Alfred. Just a busy week. There has been more criminal activity than usual. Kept me on my feet.”  
  
Alfred sent him a look which conveyed his opinion about Bruce response well.  
  
“That's so. Are this criminal folk also responsible for you missing meals upstairs for the last couple of days and sleeping down in the medical facilities more often than in your own sheets?”  
  
Bruce couldn't help the guilty twist of his lips as he was scolded by Alfred. He knew he had spent more time down here but it had been necessary. Eating the sandwiches or leftovers from the meals he missed in front of the computer gave him more time to concentrate on his cases even if the food was cold. But warm meals weren't really necessary for nutritional input. More often then not when his body finally convinced him to sleep, by just stopping to work, it was way easier to drag himself to the med-bay instead of all the way up to the manor.  
  
And when he woke up and was already downstairs it was way more convincing to start working again then to wander upstairs without a goal.  
  
“I just wish for you to take better care of yourself. And I really thing resting in your own bed and getting some sunlight would greatly improve your mood. You have been a bit harsh lately.”  
  
“The media is just exaggerating. There has just been a rise in heavier crime lately compared to small delicts so I had to take more violent action in comparison to just catching and zip ting small-time crooks.”  
  
And yeah Bruce knew exactly how it looked from the outside if you only looked at the police and hospital reports. But they all haven't been there. Not like he was. He had no other choice when confronted with someone holding a civilian hostage than to take him down. If ensuring the victim was unharmed meant he had to knock the guy out by smashing his head against the wall he would do it. Not because he felt joy at the violence but because it was the best outcome considering all the variables.  
  
It was not his fault the criminals got better and forced his hand in stopping them in more damaging ways. Once this wave was over he could go back to his old ways were a broken arm was enough to stop someone until the police arrived.  
  
  


  
~ ~ ~

  
  
Batman's breath came in erratic little huffs as he sprinted forward to the allay he had just heard the scream from hoping he would be in time to stop whatever it was from happening.

The voice had sounded so young.

He finally jumped down from the rooftop and onto the fire escape.  
  
A middle-aged man in baggy clothes and a cap deeply pulled into his face held onto a struggling teenager around Jason's age. The black-haired boy with the rattled clothes full of holes screamed and kicked, tried to get away from what was clearly becoming an attempted at rape. At least if considering the man's hand trying to undo the zipper of the kids jacked.  
  
There was an angry shout as the boy spun around and bite at the hand holding his elbow in a death grip. The criminal pushed the boy away with a harsh shove at the chest and cradled his injured hand closer.  
  
Batman could only watch as the kid stumbled backward and lost his footing falling back until his head collided with a metal dumpster behind him.  
  
The sickening sound of snapping bones could easily be heart up to the ledge of the fire escape Batman had just been about to jump down from.  
  
He didn't need to check. He knew the boy hadn't survived.  
  
His landing was uncoordinated and he felt a painful ting in his knee but it was fine when he put weight on it so there was no serious damage.  
  
The boy laid before him limps sprawled out, neck unnatural bent. His red jacked a stark contrast the dark green of the dumpster behind him. The golden R on his chest shimmered softly in the light.  
  
Bruce wobbled forward on unsteady feet until he fell on his knees beside the body. He carefully gathered the smaller form in his arm and pressed Jason's lifeless body close to his chest. Just breathing in the faint scent of freshly baked bread and old pages which seemed to follow the boy around everywhere.  
  
He strokes his gauntlet through the dark curls so he could look at Jason's face. His breath hitched when he saw the wide shocked eyes and his trembling fingers softly closed the boy's eyes. It gave him a more peaceful appearance. Like he had just fallen asleep in his father's arms instead of death.  
  
Bruce froze when suddenly laughter ran out behind him and turned his head slowly having a hard time letting go of Jason's soft features.  
  
There he stood at the dead-end of the allay with his green hair and his big red smile.  
  
“Too bad Bats. You were just a teeny-tiny bit to slow. But it was so close.”  
  
And with these words, Joker moved forward closer to the exit of the allay. But Bruce wouldn't let him pass. Wouldn't let him run away after what he had done. He would make the bastard pay.  
  
He set down the precious body in his arms slowly as if he didn't want to disturb him in his sleep and got to his feet moving in to block Joker's path of escape. When the clown started running back into the allay he grabbed him and smashed him against the wall. Once twice. Again. And again. And again until he heard the satisfying crack of the shoulder bones shifting out from its shocked accompanied by a scream.  
  
He let the man go watched for a moment as he spun on his heels and tried to get away and Batman gave him the illusion for a moment. Then he moved.  
  
He could feel bones splintering under his boot as it connected with the back of Joker's knee and the villain fell onto the ground with a scream.  
  
And Batman followed him down. Didn't even give him the chance to escape. The body under him twisted and turned. The bastard managed to turn his upper body in Batman's direction and get his arms up in a defensive gesture.  
  
“Oh Bat~sy, you are so eager today. Make a humble boy like me feel spe~cial.”  
  
The high pitched sing-song voice was followed by another fit of laughter.  
  
“YOU TOOK HIM! YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!”  
  
His fist just connected with skin over and over again until the bone crunched under the force and he finally hit the face.  
  
“MONSTER! BASTARD! FREAK! I WILL KILL YOU. I WILL WRING YOUR PALE NECK UNTIL IT BREAKS. I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER UNTIL YOU BEG FOR ME TO END IT!”  
  
Batman felt good just beating down until Joker lost conscious.  
  
“...OP! STOP!”  
  
He found his arms in a hard grip and tried to free himself but didn't manage. Gordon held his elbow in both hands and tried to drag him away but even if he was not weak Batman was heavier and resisted easily.  
  
“Let me go.”  
  
The demand was quid not more than a hiss but laced with venom. But Gordon had no self-preservation instinct and just held on.  
  
“You are killing him.”  
  
“What great deduction skills.”  
  
“..w-what?”  
  
“He needs to die. THE CLOWN DESERVES IT.”  
  
“No NO. Batman. BATMAN! Listen to me: You need to calm down.”  
  
But Batman just turned away snarling at the Joker laying under him.  
  
“Deep breaths. In...and out. Batman! In...and out. Just like that. Yeah, that's good. Just breath. Now, look at me."  
  
And for whatever reason Batman couldn't comprehend he listened. He looked in Gordon's wide and panicked eyes. At the working jaw but he also saw how the commissioner forced the lines of his body to appear smaller. Less threatening.  
  
“You did well. Just keep breathing and listening to me, okay.”  
  
Batman waited for him to continue but the air was filled with silence expect his own breathing, which was still a bit fast and the raging heartbeat in his ears. He finally noticed Gordon starring at him with expecting eyes and gave a short nod of his head.  
  
“Okay. This right there is not the Joker. He is still in Arkham. This is just a criminal. A killer but you caught killers before and didn't beat them like this. And do you knew why I knew this?”  
  
Bruce just jerked his head to the side.  
  
“I know this because you don't kill. You never did. It's your rule. You remember? You don't kill. Because you are better than them okay?”  
  
“I...I don't?”  
  
“You don't! If I let you go will you continue to beat him?”  
  
Gordon's tone had gotten an edge of authority and Bruce looked back to the body under him. It was not Joker's face. Not even close. Where Joker was pale this guy was tanned. Where Jokers lips were red this one had greyish ones. But that could also be the blood loss. Bruce filched. God, there was so much blood. And so many injuries. It had been a close call. A bit more and there would have been no more laboured breathing.  
  
“W-what...I-I...god.”  
  
Gordon helped him up as Bruce stumbled to his feet and held him upright when his knees got close to giving out under him as he stared in horror at what he had nearly done.  
  
He recoiled when he heard sirens drawing near but he couldn't find the strength to get out of Gordon's grip.  
  
“It's okay. That's the ambulance. We will get him to the hospital.”  
  
Gordon evaluated Bruce for some heavy moments.  
  
“I will let you go if you swear to me to never, NEVER, kill. You need to be better than this. Robin would have wanted you to be.”  
  
And Bruce wanted to protest. Wanted to say Jason would want the clown and everyone else to pay. But Gordon was right. He couldn't kill. Not because Jason wouldn't want it but because it would taint his memories. Jason couldn't be what pushed Batman over the edge.  
  
“I...I swear.”  
  
Gordon slowly nodded and lead him out of the allay and in the shadowy entrance of a store where Bruce could wait till he managed to be steady enough to get home.  
  
  


  
~ ~ ~  
  


  
  
_Why? Why had he been so stupid and made the promise?_ People harming kids like Jason needed to be stopped at all cost. Bruce couldn't just let them go after the pain they caused.

There shouldn't be any girls caged into a small dark space. Crowded together with barley enough food and water to survive. Crying in fear for the moment when they got dragged out and got sold to the highest bidder who was old enough to be their father. Only for them to end up suffering and miserable for the rest of their short life.  
  
Bruce had wished he could have done more than to break every single bone in the human traffickers hand. The message clear: He would never touch another girl again. But it was not enough. It didn't sent a strong enough signal. This man was stopped but that wouldn't stop another one from continuing his work. Not as long as money was involved.

They only thing able to stop this would be to terrify any potential criminals enough so no one dared to rise their hand against children. And to archive that goal there had to be an example of what could happen to them. Just a few had to be removed from this world and the rest would cower down in fear.

But he had sworn he wouldn't do it. Had sworn to let the suffering continue. Over and over again.  
  
The system didn't work. Never has. It was only a illusion to please the tax paying public. A empty promise of safety. For one crook put behind bars two more appeared, even worse than the one before. And Prison didn't 'heal' them from all the rot inside. The moment they got released they just continued where they stopped.  
  
It would never end. It could never end, not as long as they still breathing. But Gordon had his word.  
  


“DAMN IT!”

He smashed the breaks and brought the Batmobile to a sudden stop in one of the long tunnels leading to the cave. Here at least no one could stumble over Batman having a crisis about his last live choice. Not that they could tell either way with the tainted windows. But being insulated underground like this gave Bruce the needed security to allow himself to let go of his composure.

_Why? Just why?_

He hit the dashboard with an angry growl and let his head fall onto the steering wheel gritting his teeth against the headache he could already feel building up behind his eyes.

He just needed something. Something which would get ride of the worst scum of humanity without Bruce getting blood on his hands himself. This way he would technically not break his oath. It still felt a lot like cheating but Bruce was not above fighting dirty as long as the end results were right.

He had made Batman up as a symbol to be feared but righteous. Seeing that it didn't worked it was time for Batman to change.

He smashed the Batarang he had started fidgeting with in the last minutes of thinking down onto the fabric of the empty car-seat beside him. The space taunted him just by being unoccupied and bare of a dark-haired child.  
  
He starred in wonder at the dent the gadget had left in the soft material. Like a sign or scar. As if Batman's judgement was burned into it. It would show the whole world what kind of criminals they really were.

He started the car again and drove down the path in a hurry already having ideas in mind which were in dire need of testing.  
  
  


  
~ ~ ~  
  


  
  
The newspaper hit the table in front of him with a loud smash and startled Bruce out of his focus. He had to blink to get the blurry edge out of his vision after working at the computer for hours.  
  
His surprise about Alfred cornering him like this was at fault for him being too surprised to stop his cup from toppling over after the desk shook. Cold coffee spilled over his hand and papers and ended up dripping on his trousers.  
  
Yeah, he was screwed. Alfred didn't even seem to notice the mess.

  
“You are going to far!”  
  
And with this Alfred stapped his finger at the newspaper. Ah, so that was the problem. The gazette had run a piece about the new addition to Batman's arsenal. Harshly criticizing his actions.  
  
Bruce felt slightly guilty for breaking the news to Alfred like this. But he knew what he did was right and he couldn't have risked being stopped by some speech about moral. Not before he knew it worked.  
  
“You might not have pulled the trigger yourself, Master Bruce, but you sent these men to their death. You killed them.”  
  
No, Bruce hadn't. That was the whole point of this. Him not killing anyone. Keeping his promise to Gordon. They had caused their death when they decided to go after kids. He hadn't decided this men's fade. He had only marked them so they couldn't hide their sins. Their death was brought by people seeing them for the monsters they truly were.  
  
And he was just about to explain this to Alfred but didn't even get a chance to open his mouth with Alfred just going on and on.  
  
“Don't you see what you are doing? What you have become? How much further do you want to go? Till you end up just like them?!”  
  
WRONG! He was nothing like them. He was the good guy. They were the ones going after children. Bruce would never, not in a million years try to pray on a kid like that.  
  
“Or till your deathbed?! Either way, I wouldn't be able to get back from it.”  
  
ENOUGH!  
  
“IT NEEDED TO BE DONE.”  
  
His fists hit the table pushing the cup completely over the edge and making it splinter into pieces on the floor. Alfred flinched and took a step back with wide eyes.  
  
.. _.w-was he scared? Of Bruce?_ But Bruce would never cause his family harm.  
  
Bruce took a slow breath trying to calm the anger burning inside him and turned to Alfred opening his hands in a peaceful gesture but not daring to step closer in fear of spooking the man. His voice was calmer as he continued to speak.  
  
“Don't you see? There is no other way. I tried. I tried for years. Over and over again. But it didn't work. It never worked.”  
  
He took an involuntary step closer to Alfred his speech picking up speed.  
  
“But I can help now. Make it better. It was so obvious all the time but I just couldn't see it. But I see now, Alfred. This is the only way. This is who I am. Who I always have been meant to be. I just didn't see it before. No one saw it before.”  
  
He was standing so close to Alfred now. Inviting his personal space. His hands on the fragile shoulders holding on with force just on the side of being painful.  
  
“I'm better this way. I can save them. All the kids, they are better now. I can save Jason like this.”  
  
_Didn't Alfred understand?_ It was so clear.  
  
“Master Bruce, let go. You are hurting me.”  
  
Bruce frowned. He didn't hurt Alfred. He would never hurt Alfred. Then his eyes fell on the grasp on Alfred's shoulder and he let go with such strength the older man stumbled back a few steps and nearly lost his footing.  
  
“Master Jason is death. He will never, NEVER, come back. It is tragic but it is the truth. You will have to accept it. You have to find a better way to deal with your grief than this.”  
  
LIES! He swept the papers of the table and turned to his chair kicking it hard enough for it to fly back a few meters and landing on the ground bending the base.  
  
“HE WILL COME BACK. AND WHEN HE DOES I WILL NOT BE THE ONE WHO FAILED HIM! YOU CAN'T STOP ME!”  
  
  


  
~ ~ ~

  
  
  
There was a fast fluttering heartbeat pressed to his chest, small arms around his neck and sobbing in his ear. Burning stones like Meteoroids scored through the sky destroying building after building in their way and the middle of them the two monsters responsible.

They flew high above all the people. They didn't care for the screaming and crying in the street below them. About all the people running away in a desperate fight to stay alive while the city around them turned to ash. Didn't shed a single tear for all the body's they left on the ground. They didn't even notice the small scared girl who had just watched her mother die without a chance to say goodbye.  
  
They were not human. Just monsters, demons, taking and taking from the small humans below them without a single care.  
  
They took the people Bruce had called friends. Jack's voice Bruce had just heard on the phone was now silent.  
  
And Bruce he was just so weak. Powerless. He could only watch as the gods keep on fighting not able to do a thing. Just as powerless as he had been too safe Jason. He had failed again. He had let all these people down. He should have been better, should have had a plan to stop this from happening. But he hadn't even know beings like this existed.  
  
But never again. He would never again fail like this. There had to be a way to take them down and he would find no matter how long it took. They would not go free after all the sorrow they caused. Bruce would make sure of it. He couldn't bring back what the small girl clinging desperately to him had lost but he could take revenge for it. And he could make her the last. No more small kids should have to suffer under these demon's wrath.  
  
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have done better. Should have kept you safe. I will make sure to get better. Forgive me, Jason.”  
  
He would have to break his promise to Gordon. But Bruce didn't care. It was not killing if you put down a rabid animal. It was mercy.  
  



End file.
